So I guess I have an attachment to the name, which is why Café Greco on Second Avenue between 71st and 72nd streets was next on my list of Upper East Side haunts to check out.

Café Greco was quiet for a Thursday evening, which almost always raises some suspicion. Although I’m finding more and more the most crowded places are not always the best, which is certainly the case with Café Greco.

We sat down at a table next to huge open windows and started with a few martinis (mine was dirty…and excellent…and plentiful thanks to the mini martini shaker that sat next to my glass and contained just enough alcohol to fill it a second time). And the attentive and friendly waiter quickly approached with a plateful of some kind of bean salad.

I’m not a huge fan of bread on the table before a meal. I try to stay away from white bread where possible and all bread if possible. So the tradition of bringing an overflowing basket full of bread oftentimes goes against that effort since I usually sit down to dinner ready to eat a small elephant.

Then came the menus. You have to feel somewhat skeptical when you’re dining at a “nice” restaurant and the menus are white paper with some sort of fish design on the front that I could have easily made during my sixth grade computer class using Print Shop (remember that??) while playing Oregon Trail.

The menu is very simple and very straightforward, with zero explanations of anything and no mention of side dishes, sauces, or extra details that could make one dish trump another.

Grilled vegetables. 15. (what kind of vegetables??) Sesame seared ahi tuna. 19. (in what kind of sauce? What does it come with? More information, pleaseee!!!) Roast rack of lamb. 34 (any sauces here??? I need some saucesssss!!)

The waiter’s patience while filling in the blanks and answering more questions from me and my group of friends than Clinton had to answer about Monica Lewinsky showed me that maybe simpler is better.

And when the food came I realized that a fancy menu complete with the equivalent of graduate class dissertations for each dish wasn’t necessary at Café Greco.

The poached filet of Halibut with ginger, complete with a side of carrots, stringbeans and broccoli, was simple and understated – just like Café Greco- and one of the best pieces of fish I’ve had in a long time.

The only sad part was I was too full to finish it, thanks to the complimentary baked feta cheese appetizer the charming and hospitable manager, Gus, sent over to our table. I’m not one to pass up any type of cheese, but this one was especially scrumptious.

Three more friends trekked up to the Upper East Side to meet us after dinner under the assumption that once they got there we would then continue on to another bar for drinks. But we were so relaxed by the quiet restaurant, our divine dinner, and the excellent, laid back service, that we asked our friends to pull up three chairs and we all ordered another round of drinks, making Café Greco our first and final stop for the night.

I’d classify Café Greco as Greek/Mediterranean, which we learned from the waiter who clearly didn’t understand quite what we were asking when he placed the check on the table and a plate of what looked like oatmeal cookies.

Me: What’s this? (pointing to plate of cookies with menu lying next to it)

Waiter: Spanakopita.

Me: Spanako-what?

Waiter: Spanakopita. Spinach and cheese pie.

Me: ????

(We all taste the cookies, which were clearly oatmeal raisin.)

It wasn’t for a good three to four minutes until we figured out that the waiter thought I was pointing to what was written on the menu. And it wasn’t for a good three to four minutes that we could actually breathe again from laughing so hard.